Anyone paying much attention has to be a little on edge about what’s going on in North Korea, Syria, Iran, the White House, Congress, the Earth’s atmosphere, Vladimir Putin’s brain … the list could go on.

But a dismal trend has taken hold in at least a couple of Cincinnati’s neighborhoods. Granted, it doesn’t threaten the future of humanity, and it hasn’t created trenchant partisan divides. But it’s enough to make a lot of people look on with dismay, angrily grumble to each other and wonder: Why isn’t the city paying more attention?

A prime example, one of dozens in the Hyde Park/Mount Lookout area, is underway on Grace Avenue in Mount Lookout, a couple of blocks north of Mount Lookout Square.

A lovely wood farmhouse that dates to 1890, restored and beautifully maintained, was sold to a developer and is being torn down to make way for two new houses. The city says the lot consists of two plots, and consequently two houses can be built there.

People in the neighborhood – I’m one of them – are familiar with the tactic. Developers do this because they can get roughly double the return, minus building costs, on their initial investment. Demand is high for buildable lots in these neighborhoods.

The city is powerless to stop the practice because the developers aren’t violating any ordinances. In fact, the city’s tax abatements and tax credits encourage this kind of destruction/construction.

A more egregious example is a lot on Herschel Avenue near Kilgour Elementary where for decades one house existed and now five are planned or under construction.

Admittedly, some old houses cannot be salvaged. Their owners couldn’t afford the upkeep and they become an eyesore beyond reasonable repair or renovation. But the old farmhouse on Grace Avenue wasn’t one of those.

Not only will it be reduced to rubble after some of its architectural fixtures are salvaged, but a towering oak tree in apparent good health and of the same era comes down with it. It was one of three old shade trees in the front yard that were subjected to death by chainsaw. Green space and old-growth trees help make these neighborhoods so attractive.

My sentiments are not those of an old fool. Not this time, anyway. I’ve talked to several neighbors and each expressed profound regret – or in some cases said they were livid – about the pending disappearance of the old yellow farmhouse. At least two said they contacted the city to try to halt the process. Both said they received sympathy, but the deal was done and there was no way to stop it.

What’s the problem, some might ask. Developers make money and buyers get a gleaming, up-to-date house that’s energy efficient and might even look something like it belongs in the neighborhood.

The problem is this city loses, lot by lot, a portion of what makes it a special place, an urban area with plenty of green space, tantalizing architecture and character.

Unless the city adopts a way to scrutinize such home purchases and make it tougher for developers to raze older houses and build new ones in their place, a thick slice of Cincinnati’s unique history and charm will go the way of the passenger pigeons.

Dave Caudill is a freelance writer, a former Enquirer staffer and lives in Mount Lookout.